KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Harry looked up from the advanced transfiguration text he'd been studying to look at the door that had just interrupted him. He had been trying to read the bloody book for the last half hour while relaxing on his bed. He wasn't sure if he should feel the gratitude he felt for the interruption, or annoyance. He really did need to read this chapter for his essay, but he wasn't making much progress so maybe a break was what he needed after all.

"Come in," he called, reflecting that he was still getting used to having his own room at school. After confirming they would be returning for a final year, he and Hermione had both received headship badges. To say he had been surprised to have that badge fall into his lap would be an understatement. Hermione's was expected, he'd known it would be her from their class since third year after all. His badge however, felt wrong at first. He'd tried to send it back, stating that there had to be some mistake, that Headmistress McGonagall had sent it to the wrong person. The return letter had assured him that she had not, then proceeded to list the reasons why. First she claimed he'd earned it, which he didn't really believe. Next she had pointed out that headship was at the Headmistress's discretion, which he still felt like favoritism, maybe even bribery. Lastly though, was that headship was about who could lead the school and hold the respect of both students and staff. He'd snorted at that, which had of course caused Hermione to read the response over his shoulder.

Once Hermione had finished berating him for trying to return it in the first place, she sat him down and reviewed McGonagall's points one at a time. Earned it: Troll, Stone, Basilisk, Black and Lupin, Triwizard Tournament, Dumbledore's Army. He'd tried pointing out he hadn't planned any of those, but she countered with the fact that made it even more impressive. Then she'd asked when he'd ever seen Professor McGonagall show the least bit of favoritism. When he had been unable to, she merely humphed and moved on to the third item: leading the school. He'd tried to argue he'd broken just about every rule the school had, and why would anyone follow him? She'd waited until he was done, then started explaining that while yes, the DA had started as a study group, it had become more, with him leading them. Then there was the Department of Mysteries. Where they'd known it was probably a trap, yet not only had they gone anyway, but Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna had followed as well. Lastly there was the Battle of Hogwarts. The school had chosen him that night, when Voldemort had offered to let everyone go if they turned him over. Three quarters of the school had stood between him and the Slytherins when Pansy had hollered for someone to grab him. Everyone had even deferred to him after, looking to him to tell them what needed to be done. It had taken a while, but eventually Hermione had convinced him to keep the badge, even if he still occasionally felt he didn't deserve it.

Harry was pulled back to the present as he looked up to see Hermione entering and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her. It wasn't anything in particular that caused it, just that it was her. Stop it he told himself, shaking his head mentally. He'd realized shortly after they'd started the hunt that his feelings for Hermione were not the kind one has for just friends, especially not a sister, and they hadn't been for some time. He'd never shown the smallest hint to her of that awareness. She'd chosen Ron, and if he made her happy then he'd respect her choice and suffer in silence. The problem was she wasn't happy, and if the current redness of her eyes, the puffiness around said eyes, and the tear tracks across her face were any indication; she was very unhappy. Unfortunately for Harry's mental discipline, odds were good that Ron was to blame. Again.

"What's wrong?" he asked, setting the book on the side table and sitting up fully. Hermione didn't say anything as she closed the door behind her and half walked, half staggered across the room to him. She met him as he made it to his feet, not stopping as she hugged him fiercely and they fell back onto the bed. Harry held her tight, ignoring the sensation of her body so fully against his as she began to shake and shudder. He felt his chest start to dampen as her tears soaked into his top, and he just held her, letting her get it out. It wasn't the first time she'd cried on him, though if it was Ron's fault again, he may have to hide a body before the night was over.

Ron may be his best mate, though recently that had become more questionable, but Hermione was his best friend. He had once been both, but ever since fourth year Hermione had become his best friend. It really was simple, Ron hadn't believed him until after the dragon. Hermione never doubted him. It really came down to that. Ron had always been a bit of a fair weather friend, always there during the good times, less visible or just absent during the bad. His temper tantrum and departure during the hunt had almost severed their friendship if Harry was being honest. Not just because, once again, Ron had abandoned them, but more because of how bad he'd hurt Hermione by doing it. A part of Harry had been glad to be rid of Ron, much as he hated to admit it. With Ron gone, Harry and Hermione had found a simple rhythm, simply being, and a bit more happiness despite the accursed locket. He had even almost kissed her, the night they danced in the tent. It had been so close, but he'd chickened out, fearing he was taking advantage of her.

Then he had caught them kissing during the final battle, and his heart had broken. She'd chosen him again and he had no place to be jealous. That's what he told himself anyway, but it had changed him. He did feel jealousy, he did feel regret. He also didn't feel what he had for Ginny either. It had taken just a couple of days to figure out that whatever had been between him and Ginny was gone now. It had been a difficult discussion, that day in the orchard at the Burrow, but they had parted on relatively friendly terms at least. Though he had never said a word about Hermione, or his feelings for her, he was pretty sure Ginny knew, some girl magic or something. It was a few weeks later, after he'd taken Hermione home after one of her and Ron's fights, that he'd found her waiting for him at Grimmauld place. By the end of the resulting conversation Ginny had simply smiled lightly, almost non-existently. She told him to have patience, Hermione would realize her mistake eventually, and then she'd been through the floo before he could recover from his shock at the statement.

Given the frequency of the fights between the pair, Harry hoped it would be sooner rather than later, if for no other reason than Hermione would stop crying. Speaking of which…

Harry looked down as the sobs seemed to subside, and he heard a sniffle or two. He felt Hermione relax in his arms, settling it and rolling to his left so she was snuggled into the crook of his arm instead of on top of him.

"Sorry," she whispered, sniffing again.

"I told you, I'm always here for you." Harry said, rubbing her back lightly. "Do I need to send someone to retrieve a body or can he make it to the hospital wing on his own?"

Hermione gave a wry chuckle, not much but a little. She wiped her eyes and spoke, her voice harsh.

"I ruined your shirt…"

"Don't worry about it," he soothed, "it's one you got me anyway. Do you want to talk about it or just lay here?"

"Can I really just lay here?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

"Whatever you need Hermione," Harry replied, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"What I need?" Hermione sighed sadly, "What I need is a place to hide his body… maybe someplace to teach him the error of his ways first."

"I'm going to have to kill him, aren't I?"

"What? No." Hermione sat up a bit, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself you know."

"I do know," Harry agreed, "but every time he hurts you like this…."

Harry let the statement hang in the air, suspended between the two, and a still silence settled over them. Harry tried not to think about Hermione snuggled into his side, about the way it felt having her pressed so close, how it made his body feel all… electrified.

"What was it this time?" Harry asked several minutes later.

"It's silly really..." Hermione sighed.

"Hermione..."

"OK fine, well it was my birthday yesterday, as you know."

"Yup, hope you liked my present," Harry agreed

"I do, in fact, I'm wearing it now," She said, holding up her right wrist, her sleeve pulled back just enough to see a gold charm bracelet snug around her wrist, a book, an Otter, a tent, and an infinity sign dangling from it. "And that's part of the problem. Oh no, not you Harry," she quickly assured him, "but what do you think Ron got me?"

"Well," Harry considered the question, "before I would have guessed a book you already had or weren't interested in, maybe some candy you don't like. Now though…"

"You're right," Hermione cut him off, anger in her voice, "That's exactly what he got me: a copy of Hogwarts: A History and a bag of ton-tongue toffees."

"Just a guess, but it was the most recent edition?" Harry asked even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already, "The one you've been quoting for the last eight years?"

"Got it in one," Hermione snarked. She looked like she was about to say more, to continue, but stopped. Instead, she curled herself back into his chest, as if trying to suck all the warmth out of him. They lay there for a while, Harry idly caressing her back and Hermione just soaking up the comfort before she once again broke the silence.

"Harry?" Her voice was cracking, strain and fear lacing it.

"Yes?" He responded, unconsciously holding her tighter, trying to protect her from whatever she feared.

"Why don't you love me?" She asked, her voice full of fear and rejection.

"I...what?" Harry was stunned by the question.

"Why don't you love me?" Hermione repeated, anger now tingeing her tone, "Why couldn't we be together? What was so wrong with me that you can't love me?"

"Hermione," Harry's resolve was cracking, "There's nothing wrong with you, absolutely nothing at all."

"Then why was there never an us?" she demanded, rolling up to face him, "Why did I have to settle for that ungrateful, unreliable, idiotic…"

"Hermione," Harry cut her off, then paused to gather himself. "Where is this coming from? What happened?"

"It isn't any one thing Harry," Hermione sighed, deflated. "It's a lot of things. Our fight, our breakup, was just the latest in a long line of them, and I just can't take it. I have two people I really care about. Both of whom I love or could possibly love romantically. Ron was admittedly not my first choice, but he at least seemed to want to be with me, despite the multitude of issues we have. Then there's you, the first boy I… I loved, but who doesn't love me back."

"Hermione…" Harry tried, he really did, but he couldn't let her think that. He just couldn't. "I've never said I don't love you."

"I know you love me as a friend Harry," Hermione sighed, trying to get up, "But that's not what I mean."

"I know," Harry held her tight, determined to see this through and preventing her from leaving, "And I wasn't talking about friendship love."

"I… But… what?" Hermione was speechless, something Harry would have normally been proud of accomplishing. "What do you mean then?"

"Well," Harry dove in full-bore, figuring if he was going to tell her, he might as well tell her everything. "I finally realized just how much you mean to me over a year ago, I realized I didn't... No, I couldn't imagine living in a world without you. I started thinking about why that was, and what exactly it meant."

"And what did it mean?" Hermione asked softly.

"Well, I've never really had a good example of what love was," Harry admitted, "Not what it felt like or how to deal with it, so it took me a while but I realized that I was in love with you. Unfortunately, I never felt I was worthy of you. Plus you had made it clear you wanted Ron, so I never let you see. I wanted you to be happy, and if that meant Ron, I would hold my peace."

"You… a year?" Hermione stammered, "You mean you've been suffering in silence for a year? I was trying to push myself into a relationship with someone else and you just kept quiet?"

"I thought it was what you wanted," Harry tried to roll away, but Hermione held him tight this time. "Your happiness was more important."

"You selfless, idiotic, stupid boy," Hermione sighed exasperated, "I'm the one not worthy of you, but I still love you. Ok, maybe I never told you that but I thought it was pretty obvious…"

"I never had a clue," Harry admitted.

"Well here's one even you should get," Hermione said softly, tenderly, and leaned in to kiss him.

Now, Harry had been kissed before, by Cho in fifth year, and more recently by Ginny, even Luna had stolen a kiss after Slughorn's party sixth year. Not one of those kisses held a candle to kissing Hermione. It was light and dreamy, so light in fact, Harry thought he was dreaming at first. He leaned in a little, feeling the pressure of her lips on his increase, and she responded in kind. Slowly, the kiss built, deepening and becoming passionate as each began to pour their feelings into the kiss. Hermione's tongue teased his lips, seeking entrance which he happily granted, his tongue meeting hers and starting their own little dance. Nor were hands idle, Harry felt her hands circle his neck, holding him close as his tangled in her hair and spilled around her side to her back, pulling her body back against his.

Harry felt her hands teasing the hem of his pajama shirt, her fingers setting his skin on fire, and knew he had to stop them. He really, really didn't want to, but knew they had to.

"Stop," he gasped, breaking their kiss and pushing her shoulders away gently. "We need to stop."

"No," Hermione replied fiercely, trying to pull him back to her, "I don't want to."

"I don't either," He assured her, "I really don't, but you're Ron's girlfriend…"

"Ex-Girlfriend," Hermione retorted, trying to kiss him again, "Just a bit ago in fact."

"Even so," Harry used every ounce of restraint to stop from giving in, "You are still not thinking straight, you're hurt and looking for comfort. I get that, and as much as I really, really want to continue this, I can't take advantage of that."

"Harry," Hermione growled in frustration.

"No, I care too much to let this be something you may regret in the morning," Harry finally succeeded in rolling her off of him, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that to you."

"I won't regret this," Hermione assured him, cuddling into his side. "I promise I won't."

"I'm sure you think that," Harry sighed, accepting her curled into his side, "But given the emotional roller coaster you're on; Can you honestly say one hundred percent you want this here, now?"

"Of course I…" Hermione trailed off, her voice turning thoughtful. She continued a few seconds later, "No, I guess I can't, not one hundred percent."

"Then don't, let it settle and we can figure it out more in the morning."

"But… Fine. Can I at least stay here? It's not like it's the first time we've slept in the same bed and I don't want to be alone tonight."

"I guess I can't say no to that, never could deny a damsel in distress," Harry grinned at her as she gave him a mock offended look.

"Ok, well I'm not sleeping in these," She waved at her jeans and blouse. "I'll be right back."

Hermione rolled off Harry's bed and started towards the door to their shared common room. She paused about halfway to the door, then rather than continuing, she turned towards Harry's wardrobe, walked over, and opened it. Pulling out a red shirt Harry couldn't identify before she closed the wardrobe door and made her way to the bathroom. He heard her puttering for a few minutes and then the light went out and the doorway opened. In that doorway stood Hermione, hair as wild and untamed as ever and clad in one of his quidditch jerseys. It was a bit large for her and came down to mid-thigh on her, but to Harry, it was like he was seeing an honest to Merlin Goddess.

"Wow," he breathed in awe. "I've never thought a quidditch jersey could be sexy until now."

Hermione just blushed as she walked back over to the bed, scooting under the covers to join him in the large four poster. She kissed him lightly on the lips again, then curled into his side. "Goodnight Harry."